


Royal Ass

by Mangacat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Curses, Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-30
Updated: 2010-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2176266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mangacat/pseuds/Mangacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur hasn’t felt this ridiculous or miserable in quite some time, and to add insult to injury, everyone seems to be inclined to paw at his … new additions... without permission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Ass

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This particular version of Arthur and Merlin belongs to the BBC and I do not earn any money for this work of fanfiction.
> 
> Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for 3X03 ‘Goblin Gold. Written for the [](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com/)**hc_bingo** prompt: cursed; in 2010.

Everyone who’s seen him in his misery – which thanks to Gwen’s interference was only a limited amount of people, but still far too many – seems to find themselves urging to touch his ears. Grab them. Pet them. Scrub them. Scratch them. And it drives Arthur wild that nobody seems to be able to discern high noises of distress from the dulcet tones of utter enjoyment in donkey speech. Arthur would never admit it out loud, but even when they’re good and properly human, his ears are quite sensitive and he likes to have them touched (not that anyone ever had the chance to be let in on that secret, thank you very much), but right now the feeling he gets when there’s hands all over his… fur, bristling it and … well, it feels like ants crawling all over his body, he’s got a permanent itch in his nose from the hairs and a quite terrible headache from all the prodding and tugging that has been going around for quite some time. 

When he can finally bear the torture no more, he lashes out with an embarrassing screech and flees to the far side of the room, cowering in a corner, leveling his most scary glare at anyone who dares to come near and covering his ears, well what he can actually _reach_ of his ears, with his hands. They have all tried to communicate with him, but nobody looks like they’re getting what he actually wants to say. It’s like he hasn’t only been disfigured by this curse, but also he’s been rendered completely unable to interact with someone who might be able to help. 

Finally, when he closes his eyes and starts rocking against the wall from sheer frustration, the people in the room catch the drift at last and back off. Still, they continue to chatter incessantly as if he’s not _right here with big damn ears_  to hear them, and he can feel the tension run through his body until he’s strung like a bow. If they’d just stop already, stop, stop… st…

The sound of a new voice makes his ears… _twitch._

And then there’s someone kneeling down near his spot, Arthur can feel the warmth radiating from them. He isn’t really startled, quenches his first instinct to lash out, but barely. He knows what’s coming next and his mind wavers between mad fear and anticipation. And then, Arthur can feel it, right next to his hand on the rim of his ear, a single fingertip ghosting upwards with a feathery touch. He waits for the torturous feeling to set in, but a heartbeat passes and another one and…

“Huh, they’re really real.”

All the tension suddenly melts out of Arthur’s muscles and he slumps back against the wall in stupor. He’s vaguely aware of the voice saying something else, that might get people to leave or not, and he can’t seem to care because his eyes are rolling up into his head … _and this really shouldn’t feel so good._

A thumb and forefinger swipe over his sleek fur and rub the tip with just the right amount of pressure and whoever’s doing this is a fricking genius and as shivers run down his spine, Arthur thinks that maybe should put off his demands for restoration of essential body parts just little while, just as long as they keep it up. The black void creeps up on him unnoticed until from one moment to the other, everything goes dark. 

Arthur wakes up to the soft sweeping light of dusk and lingers in that stage between sleep and wake for half a second until he spots his cheeky manservant sitting on a stool next to his bed with his chin propped up in his hand and a mischievous grin on his lips. Annoyance surges up in Arthur on the spot. 

“Merlin, you … what have you…”

He stops abruptly, watching the grin stretch into a full-fledged smile. Arthur can’t help slapping his hands over his ears and relief tumbles through him like a soothing balm when he encounters skin instead of fur and a round little shape instead of huge flaps. Merlin is not one to let him have a moment’s peace though, before he gripes: 

“Petting, Sire, really? I hope you are not planning on adding that to my daily chores for good.”

It takes Arthur only a split second to put the pieces together, but outrage is quick to follow. 

“ _Mer_ lin”

A pillow sails through the air, but Merlin dodges it with practised ease. Still, Arthur can absolutely not let this go. 

The chase is _so_ on. 

LE fin


End file.
